


Just For Tonight

by gainesm



Series: The New Beginnings Storyline [1]
Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Fix-It, Lesbian Sex, New Beginnings Canon, Post Season 3, Post-Season/Series 03A AU, Prologue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-06
Updated: 2012-02-06
Packaged: 2017-11-06 16:51:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/421132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gainesm/pseuds/gainesm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the return of the Warehouse, Myka spends an evening with an unexpected guest. This has a graphic love scene and may not be suitable for all readers. *Episode 0 of the "New Beginnings" Storyline. This story serves as its Prologue.*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Be Keech](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Be+Keech).



> This was originally intended as a one-shot/standalone story, but grew into something larger so that it now serves as a prologue for the canon series I have titled "The New Beginnings Storyline", but is not required in order to enjoy the actual series itself.

Just for Tonight by Marcia Gaines

 

Chapter One

Myka Bering sat in her room at Leena's Bed and Breakfast. The locket belonging to H.G. Wells lay open on her desk, and she stared at it lost in thought. How many times had she watched H.G. touch the locket as it hung from her neck? Myka could not recall, but the familiar images ran through her mind and she smiled softly as she reminisced.

Three months passed since they lost the Warehouse, and just this morning Artie and Claudia presented yet another theory for how they might bring everything back. Currently, they were operating out of a makeshift base of operations near the Warehouse's location. The sturdy temporary building wasn't a replacement, but it was serving its purpose. Artie continued to remain positive, as did Claudia, that they would find a way to fix everything, but so far nothing they tried worked. The first few attempts were exciting, and she was hopeful they would work, but after so many tries she could no longer afford the repeated disappointments. She was sitting this one out, and resigned herself to the ever-increasing probability that all was lost.

The sound of her Farnsworth stirred her from her thoughts. It was probably Artie. Pete took some time off and was spending it with his mother, Jane. He was having second thoughts about staying with the team and Jane suggested they make the effort to talk through recent events in the hopes she could convince him to stay. The Farnsworth bellowed for her attention. She ignored it. She just was not in the mood to hear yet another reason for why whatever they tried did not work and how Claudia and Artie had a new idea they would attempt in the morning.

Rising from her desk, Myka let out a sigh. Her empty stomach proclaimed the approaching hour for supper. She was tired as well as hungry. Leena would have dinner waiting, and it gave her an excuse to have missed Artie's call. She rose from her desk and strode toward the door. The sound of Artie's and Claudia's voices met her as she descended the stairs. That was odd. If they were here, who was that on the Farnsworth? Myka scrunched her eyebrows and scanned the room as she reached the landing. The voices came from the other room. She could hear Leena talking.

"But, how?" Leena asked.

"It's a long story, we can discuss details a little later. Right now, I've got to call the Regents and let Pete and Myka know," came Artie's voice. He sounded far away.

"She's upstairs. In her room," replied Leena.

"No," Myka said as she walked into the room, "I'm… I'm right here…" she looked around expectantly but found only Leena present. The inn-keeper stood hunched over her desk staring into the monitor. Leena glanced up and smiled.

"Myka!" she exclaimed and pointed at the monitor, "They did it! They brought the Warehouse back!" Her eyes gleamed with excitement.

Myka was stunned. The Warehouse was back? How? When? She rushed to the desk to see for herself. There, on the webcamera, were Artie and Claudia standing in the Warehouse office. Claudia was dressed in lab-gear and looked to be spraying neutralizer on something that was moving around rather rapidly in the background. There was no visible sign of the building's destructive explosion. "Artie," she started, "how did you get it back? When? Is everything okay?" Her own excitement showed. She could hardly believe it. Claudia crowded into the camera's lens at the sound of Myka's voice.

"Myka! We did it!" Claudia beamed. Neutralizer dripped from her forehead and shoulders.

"I can see that!" replied Myka with a grin. "That's amazing. I want to hear all about it. It looks like you could use some help, though. I'm on my way!" She turned to leave, but was brought up short by Artie's voice.

"Uh, Myka! Actually, no, we're good. We're fine. Claudia and I still need to run some diagnostics and until we do the Warehouse is probably best left off-limits," Artie stated. "Security precaution," he offered as an explanation. Myka looked dejected. The thought of returning to the Warehouse filled her with happiness for the first time in three months. All she wanted to do was feel some level of normalcy. Being back at the Warehouse would provide that.

"Well, we're not entirely sure everything is as it was. In fact, no, we know it's not like it was," Artie's voice trailed off as he handed Claudia a paper towel. She was dripping the purple neutralizer fluid everywhere. Claudia glanced at the paper towel and promptly ignored it – something behind Artie had her attention and she moved off to investigate it. Artie used the paper towel to wipe a drop she left on his arm.

"I don't understand," said Myka.

"No, no, neither do I." responded Artie. He waved his hand as he continued, "There are… anomalies we've encountered. Small things. Minor things. Little differences. So far we've found a few artifacts acting up, but for the most part things are under control." He turned towards Claudia who just flew backwards behind him and landed with a loud crashing thud.

"I'm okay," came Claudia's pained voice a moment later.

"So…" Artie said as he turned back to the webcam, "I think before we get back to business it's best to check things out and do a proper security sweep." Of course, thought Myka. It would make sense things could not return just exactly as they had been – to do otherwise would have been too good to be true. She decided a long time ago most artifacts took every opportunity to be inconvenient. Still, she wondered what sorts of anomalies Artie meant. He did not sound overly concerned and nothing in Claudia's mood indicated danger – although her artifact-wrangling did not seem to be going well.

"How long until you finish with the diagnostics?" asked Myka. Artie looked at Claudia, then back at the camera.

"It's going to be a while. I need to call Pete and get him on a plane back here. We should be back up and ready to go in the morning. I'll check in with you then," he said and signed off in his typically abrupt fashion.

Myka looked thoughtful. So the Warehouse was back. Nothing could make her happier than that thought, except perhaps the idea of none of it ever happening in the first place. She would give anything for the Warehouse never to have exploded – for H.G. to still be alive. She missed her. The death of H.G. Wells hit Myka harder than most of the others knew. The shock of losing Steve, finding out Mrs. Frederick died as a result of the explosion, and the loss of the entire Warehouse – all of these were difficult for Myka to bear, but eclipsing all of them was the loss of Helena.

She missed her smile, her impish grin, her laugh... Myka sighed. She missed everything about Helena, including the way she felt whenever they were near each other. Helena made her feel, for the first time, like she was not alone in the world. They were kindred spirits in a way; both were fiercely intelligent and independent while being emotionally fragile. They shared a love of literature, and indeed H.G. Wells was a lifelong favorite of Myka's. The thought brought a smile to the corners of her mouth. Oh the irony, she mused. For all "his" genius and insight, the legendary writer turned out to be none other than Helena G. Wells, sister of the man whose face was synonymous with the name that graced the cover to all her favorite stories. Charles Wells may have been an inventive author, but it was his sister who had been the visionary and who had fed him all the details, research, and knowledge from her own life. It may have been his pen, but it was her hand that moved it to words.

She let the thoughts of H.G. Wells fall to her mind's background as she sat to eat her evening meal with Leena. Over a lovely eggplant parmesan they spoke excitedly of the Warehouse's return and reminisced about Helena. Leena was the only person associated with the Warehouse who knew Myka's true feelings. The first few weeks after the destruction of the Warehouse Myka was inconsolable and only Leena determined the cause. Myka was heartbroken, having lost the love of her life, and suffered in silence until Leena finally broached the topic with her. Thereafter, whenever Myka's pain was too much to bear alone, she and Leena would talk, and it always seemed to help for a little while. Myka's only real regret was that she never told Helena how she really felt. But this evening, the only thing topic of discussion was the Warehouse itself. While neither of them understood how the return was accomplished, they both felt like they finally found some footing again. It was nice to share a joyous moment with a good friend, she thought. Tomorrow would be a welcome day.

"Okay, Leena," said Myka smiling as she stood. "I'm going to read a bit before bed. If I don't see you again tonight, I'll be up early to head to the Warehouse."

"Me too," agreed Leena. "Have a good night." Leena cleared the table and headed for the kitchen.


	2. Chapter Two

Just for Tonight by Marcia Gaines

Chapter Two

  


Myka climbed the stairs to her room. With each footfall she filtered through a list of books in her mind until she finally settled on her selection for the night. This night it would be "A Time Machine". It was one of her most favorite stories, and every time she read from it she felt a connection to Helena.

She opened the door to her room and paused. The light was on. She remembered turning it off before going downstairs, which meant someone had been in her room and might still be there. She reached for her gun and silently swore. She wasn't wearing it. As she edged the door open she heard a voice.

"Myka," it said with what sounded like relief. It could not be, thought Myka. That voice. It sounded just like Helena. She threw the door open and her mouth fell open at the sight of H.G. Wells sitting near the window. "Myka, I am so very glad to see you." Helena's face was filled with a smile as she rose. Myka stood speechless in the doorway and stared expressionless into the room.

Helena G. Wells placed her hands in her pockets and looked at Myka. She was dressed just as she had been the last time Myka saw her, and had the slightest of an abrasion near her throat. Myka nearly forgot the brief encounter with the pulley rope from the Mary Celeste. Just minutes after that entanglement Myka watched H.G. sacrifice herself to save Pete, Artie, and her from the explosion that took the Warehouse. It broke Myka's heart when it happened, and she never thought she would recover from that loss. Yet here she was, as unblemished as she was before the catastrophe and smiling.

"How?" was all she could muster. The questioning look she gave asked the rest.

"I have no idea," responded Helena. "One moment I smelled apples, and the next I was here." She swept her arm around as looked about the room. "Tell me, what happened? Did the barrier hold?" She asked with a focused look. Myka only nodded in response. "Good." She said with a satisfied tone. "I didn't know if the barrier would last. I am pleased to know it did. Everyone is alright, yes? That's what mattered." Helena's piercing gaze mesmerized Myka who merely stared back silently. "You are… alright, Myka?" Helena moved forward, concern shadowing her face.

"Yes. Yes, I'm fine. Are you?" Myka replied. Helena's face relaxed.

"Quite alright. Never better, in fact." Helena smiled.

"You're… really here?" Myka inquired.

"Yes. I'm here." She said with a nod.

"Not a hologram?" Myka asked hesitantly.

Helena shook her head as she answered, "No. Not a hologram." She stood just before Myka and reached out to touch her. Myka's eyes fell to her left wrist where Helena's hand encircled it with a gentle pull. Definitely real, she thought. She looked up to see Helena's eyes gazing into her own. Myka smiled broadly and stepped into the room closing the door behind her.

"I can't believe you're here. How are you here? How long have you been back?" Myka's questions tumbled out of her with evident excitement. She grasped Helena's hands and held them tightly as her face lit up. Helena laughed and raised her eyebrows. She tilted her head at Myka with a sly grin.

"I'm thankful to be here, too, Myka." She said. She let herself drink in Myka's face. She was positively gorgeous, she thought.

"Sorry. I…I just… I…" Myka stammered and shifted her feet as she turned away blushing. Helena gently turned her around and ducked to meet Myka's downward eyes.

"It's okay, darling. I know." She said encouragingly. Everything Myka felt showed on her face. It always did. Helena pushed the hair back from Myka's face. "I know it was upsetting to go through what you did. In some ways I suppose I was the lucky one in all that."

Myka locked eyes with her. Clearly Helena had no idea what it did to her to watch her die in that explosion. It felt like a part of her died with Helena. "Lucky. Lucky? You died, Helena! You died three _months_ ago!" exclaimed Myka.

Helena stood up straight as she took in the news. That explained why Myka looked like she was talking to a ghost. It also explained the pain she saw hidden behind Myka's eyes which were brimming with tears. She knew what that look meant, and silently concluded she would say nothing about it. "Right then." She said, and tried to lighten the tension. "Well, I always did hope to go out in a blaze of glory." She looked around, "And, I suppose for an afterlife one could do worse." Myka did not laugh. She found nothing humorous about that day. "Hm." Helena uttered thoughtfully. Apparently joking would have to wait.

Myka's head swam with the impossibility of Helena being there. Tears spilled from her eyes and she wiped them away. Three months of anguish. Three months of loss. She should be brimming with happiness right now, but all she could feel was anger – anger at Helena for the choice she made. Yes, Helena sacrificed herself to save the team, but she did it without discussion. That it was so easy for her to leave her behind without thinking hurt Myka in ways she did not have words to express.

She did not have to have the words, however, which she quickly discovered when she felt Helena's arms wrap around her shoulders. Helena pulled her in gently and hugged her. The tears flowed freely from Myka's eyes as she leaned in and returned the embrace. It felt so good to touch her, to smell her perfume, to feel her warmth. Myka trembled. Helena hugged her tighter and stroked the back of her hair as she slowly rocked her side to side. "Shh… it's okay, darling, I'm here." She said. The sound of her voice seemed so distant despite being right in her ear. The British accent with which Helena spoke always calmed Myka and it was having the predictable effect even as her body shook with emotion.

They stood together swaying slowly, until Helena's soothing voice and the rocking motion helped Myka's tears subside. Helena moved to pull away and invoked an involuntary response from Myka, who gripped her tightly and would not let her go. Holding Helena like that felt like being home, and proved to be the one and only way in all the time since they lost the Warehouse where it felt okay to let her emotions show. She could not imagine letting anyone else see her so vulnerable.

Without thinking Myka closed her eyes and laid her head to rest against Helena's shoulder, with her face buried in the nape of her neck. She felt the chain of the locket which once again hung from Helena's neck. All was as it should be, thought Myka. How could something so simple feel so comfortable, she thought to herself, and nuzzled Helena's skin with her nose. She could not help but notice Helena's pulse quicken. She pondered for a moment and the realization set her own heart pounding.

Yes. This. This is what she wanted. This was who she wanted. This was who she loved, she thought and her heart surged. Yes, she loved H.G. Wells. If she had any doubts about her feelings they dissipated in that instant. But what did that really mean? What was she supposed to do with that acknowledgment? Could she do this? Did Helena even feel the same way?

Just because Helena commented once with an implication she may have had trysts with women from her past did not mean she still lived such a life, nor that she harbored any such feelings for Myka. That comment marked the first time Myka ever thought about kissing another woman. It was hard not to think of it when spending so much time with such an amazing and beautiful woman. She never let herself dwell on the fantasy, and usually dismissed it as a natural thought prompted by proximity to someone so wonderful, until the day she lost Helena in the explosion. From that day forward, Myka's thoughts were constantly filled with memories of her time with Helena. Her face. Her laugh. The way her eyes twinkled when she discovered something new. Helena's brilliance had captivated her, and she still never ceased to be amazed at every inkling of the underlying way in which Helena's deductive reasoning powers worked. The woman was as much a genius as she was a timeless beauty.

Myka opened her eyes and stared at Helena's neck as she parsed through the possibilities. She kept waiting for the moment where she talked herself out of her thoughts, but instead she found herself locking such arguments away. She could work through all of that another day. Right now Helena was here, and she did not want to lose a single moment with her. She stirred slightly and nuzzled in closer as her imagination drifted to images of kissing Helena. The thought made her knees feel weak, and her breathing grew shallow as her mind raced.

Helena froze. Feeling Myka so close with such intimate, yet innocent, contact was the last thing she expected. She dared not move lest she betray her own desires, and inadvertently create an uncomfortable situation. It did not matter how much she cared for this woman, she thought. Myka deserved to live an uncomplicated life with someone who offered normalcy and stability, and Helena knew she could never give her that. This would remain just a beautiful moment between them.

They became such fast friends, and were so much alike – and with so little effort they established a bond unlike any she had since before her daughter, Christina, was born. Somewhere along the way, the Warehouse agent became the most important thing in her life. Left alone to her own private thoughts, she spent more than a century thinking through plans for the world should she ever find herself in it again. When James McPhereson released her from captivity, she set all that planning into motion. So much time spent focused on nothing but forcing a new start for civilization left her ill-prepared for the moment Myka placed herself at gunpoint, with nothing but trust in Helena to keep her alive. In that moment, as Helena looked into Myka's eyes and listened to her friend demand her to take her life, she knew she could not pull the trigger. Though she had taken numerous lives on her path to that event, it was Myka, and Myka alone who wielded the kind of emotional power that took her to her knees. There was no use in denying it - Helena knew this woman owned her, and she found herself surprisingly happy with the notion.

Despite the sudden realization the attraction was mutual; she long ago knew never to assume an attraction necessarily meant desire or intention. So she stood, motionless, holding her breath. The only sound she could hear was the pounding of her own heart. When Myka's left-hand slowly pulled away and came up to stroke the side of Helena's face, it caused Helena a reflexively sharp inhale of breath.

The sound of that breath gave Myka all the confirmation she needed. Helena definitely shared her feelings. The thought of it made her head swim. She slowly raised her head, never moving more than an inch away from Helena's face. She brought her thumb to Helena's lips and gingerly traced them. They were full and luscious, and parted slightly at her touch. A shiver went through Myka.

Before she could stop herself she cupped Helena's face and leaned into her. She touched her lips to Helena's with such tenderness it brought tears to Helena's eyes, and as she closed them the room seemed to spin. Helena dropped her arms and pressed her hands against the small of Myka's back. Myka moved even closer in response, and brought both hands to cup Helena's face as she kissed her with more intensity.

Their lips parted, and Helena's tongue gently searched out Myka's. As they entwined, the weakness in Myka's legs won out and if not for Helena's quick response would have buckled completely. Instead, Helena held her and continued to kiss her as she guided Myka's steps until they came to a stop against the wall behind Myka. The moment she felt Myka's body stop moving, she broke the kiss and moved her mouth to Myka's neck, eliciting an almost inaudible moan. A brief smile touched the corners of Helena's mouth at the sound, and she began kissing just below Myka's left ear down to the nape of her neck and back. Her hands slipped under Myka's shirt and gently caressed her back and waist.

Myka lunged forward at Helena's touch. The convulsion happened so quickly she could not stop it – an unexpected response to the feel of her hands on her bare skin. She felt like she was on fire. Kissing Helena was everything she thought it would be, but she was not prepared for how it would feel to be touched by her. Every nerve in her body seemed to pulse with electricity, and all rational thought was gone. She was driven by nothing but pure emotion. Either she had to surrender to her love, or step back from the line they were about to cross.

Helena's hands began to roam, and Myka's body jolted at the sensation Helena's fingertips left as they brushed against her breast. Myka's head fell forward to rest on Helena's shoulder. Soft noises escaped her with every caress. She ran her fingers through the back of Helena's hair pulling her in, and gasped as Helena instinctively responded in kind by pressing into her with enough pressure to pin her motionless against the wall as she applied harder, rougher, more-insistent kisses against the hollow of her neck.

In a fleeting moment she realized whatever semblance of control she thought she could have with Helena would never truly exist, and for the second time that night she trembled in Helena's arms. Helena sensed the hesitation, but misread the reason for it thinking it was objection. She pulled away and took a step back, but kept her hands on Myka's waist a moment longer before finally releasing her. She swallowed hard and apologized.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have…" she started, but Myka cut her off.

"You didn't. I was the one who kissed you." She said. They stared at each other briefly. "I've wanted to do that for so long, and I'm not sorry." Myka's eyes moved back and forth into Helena's as she desperately searched Helena's face. Was she wrong? Did Helena not want this crossing of boundaries? Helena considered Myka's words before responding.

"Myka… maybe we shouldn't do this." she began.

"H.G." Myka said with an objecting tone.

Helena looked at her and averted her eyes as she spoke. She paused and chose her words carefully, "Some things we do can never be undone. This… this would change things between us. You do realize that?"

"Of course it will change things. Why wouldn't it?" she asked rhetorically. "This is what I want – you are who I want."

Helena turned her head slightly, temporarily averting her gaze, so she could speak from some far-away place in her mind. "Do not say such things lightly, Myka." She ran both hands through her hair before placing them in her pockets. "I am not a good person. You deserve so much more than someone like me. The things I've done…" her voice trailed off.

"Stop it!" Myka said emphatically. "Stop doing that. I told you already, I believed in you. I still do." She took a small step forward and placed a hand on Helena's shoulder. "I still do," she repeated. "And I am still right. You _are_ a good person, Helena. Yes, you've made mistakes… big mistakes, granted… but, you never _wanted_ to hurt people. You just wanted to stop your own pain. I understand that. We all understand that. That doesn't make you a bad person." Myka's face took on that sure and confident look Helena remembered from their first meeting in her old London home.

That was when Helena first felt some sort of connection between the two of them, even daring to "accidentally" caress the back of Myka's hand while being handcuffed to a chair. She could not help but smile at the memory. It seemed so long ago, and so much happened since then. Myka shook her gently for emphasis, rousing her from her thoughts.

"Myka," replied Helena, "you always think the best of me. Were I a different person, I might forget how unearned your faith and admiration really are." She reached up and took Myka's hand from her shoulder, but held it gently and did not let go as she spoke. "Be that as it may, on this matter of where we stand with one another… we can let the kiss we shared be as far as we let this go." Before Myka could object Helena continued, "Or… we could cross this boundary and in some short period of time, maybe tomorrow, maybe next week we find ourselves unable to continue our friendship because you come to the realization this is not who you are." Myka's face clouded, but Helena kept talking. "And, you would be right, you know. This is _not_ who you are and your family and friends would know that. And I have so long been without a true and good friend, I am not quite sure I could recover properly should our friendship suffer greatly."

"Helena…" Myka looked intently into the other woman's face. The dark eyes gazing back at her were darker for the sadness they revealed, and Myka's emotion spilled out of her. "Helena, we're such good friends because we're so alike. You know this. And that means you should also know that "who I _am_ " is who I am – and that means I can keep or cross whatever boundaries I want to and right now I don't really give a damn what my family or my friends think about it because they don't understand me the way you do." She was so emphatic Helena raised her eyebrows. "Helena, all that matters to me right now is you. This. Us." She lowered her voice and spoke more gently, "Helena, I care for you!" The words hung in the air like a reverberating echo speaking through the silence.


	3. Chapter Three

Just for Tonight by Marcia Gaines

Chapter Three

  


Helena stared long and hard at Myka. "You... care... for me," she said haltingly.

"Helena, all I know right now is how happy you make me feel. You don't know what it was like without you." She paced back and forth as she spoke, and Helena watched her as she gestured. "I don't know when it happened, I just know that once I lost you I wish I'd told you sooner," she explained. She meant it, too. During their conversation she thought about how she felt when Helena chose to sacrifice her consciousness to save the Warehouse and Emily Lake. Their teary goodbye left her hurting, but her heart soared when she found out the Janus coin was not destroyed. She would rather have dealt with whatever that Sykes maniac was trying to do than to lose the one person with whom she felt so close a connection. But her happiness was short-lived, and that final sacrifice three months ago left her with so much pain she knew she did not want to live her life having never given the two of them a chance to be together. "And now that you're here, Helena… I don't want one more day to go by without saying it. These last few months taught me something," she said as she frowned and lowered her gaze. "We never know how much time we're going to get with someone. Trying to pretend something doesn't exist when it does," she pointed at Helena and at herself before continuing, "doesn't change the fact that it _does_ exist." She stopped pacing and stared at the floor. "We exist, Helena, and we have no way to know how long that will be true. So, right now, yes – I… I want you to know how I feel. I want you to know," her voice fell to nearly a whisper, "I love you."

Minutes went by before Helena found her voice. Her thoughts reeled with the confession, and she knew Myka was right to speak her feelings. It was something they both should have done long ago. "Myka, I do love you, too, you know. I always have. I suspect you never knew, however." She gave a weak smile and continued, "But, you know it is virtually impossible the Regents will allow me to live a normal life. We aren't likely to ever have more than what this is between us right here." Helena spoke slowly. Her brow was furrowed and she swept her hands through her hair as she finished her point.

Myka nodded and said, "Yes, you're probably right. But we're here right now. And if all we ever have is this moment, then I would rather have it than never have it at all." Myka took Helena's other hand and held both of them up to her face. She placed a single gentle kiss on them and said, "Just for tonight, Helena. Just for tonight, let us not be Warehouse agents or victims of artifacts. Just for tonight, let us be two people who love each other who don't have to worry about tomorrow." Myka placed Helena's hands around her waist and placed her own around Helena's. "Just for tonight, Helena, even if it is all we ever have." She leaned in and kissed her.

This time they took their time and let their kiss linger. They relished the taste of their kiss, and they succumbed to the sensations each brought to the other. They moved slower but with unmistakable intention now that the air between them was cleared, but even that did not prevent Myka's nervousness from showing. Helena could feel the trembling start again, and she grew concerned. She wanted Myka desperately, but she wanted Myka's own comfort more than anything else. She pulled back from the kissing and caressing and looked into Myka's eyes.

"Are you alright, dearest?" she asked as she placed a gentle kiss on the tip of Myka's nose

"Yes. Yes, I'm fine… I'm just…" Myka turned her head as she felt her cheeks flush. Helena saw the red hue and smiled.

"You're nervous, yes?" Her voice took on an even more soothing tone than usual. When Myka nodded in response she continued, "It's perfectly normal to be nervous." Though they never discussed it in all their time as friends, their exchange a few minutes ago brought Helena to the conclusion Myka likely never had been with another woman. Her nervousness was not just about being with a new lover, but also because that lover happened to be a woman. Neither woman was used to ceding control to others, but Helena resolved to let Myka be the one to set their pace. Whether they moved forward or spent the night just holding each other would be out of her hands.

"Come," she said and held out her hand. Myka looked at it then reached out and took it in her own. Helena gently pulled her and headed toward the bed. They sat together and Helena kissed Myka lightly before whispering in her ear, "we'll take this as fast or as slow as you need. I have no expectations other than to spend the night with the woman I love." She kissed her again and sat back with a smile.

"Can we," Myka began, "… can we talk a little bit? Maybe lie down?" Helena's amused smile and raised eyebrows caused Myka to flush again. "That's, that's so not what I… Oh God, I just meant maybe we could lie down and cuddle or something!" she blurted.

Helena's amused look continued. "Or… something…" she teased.

Myka shot her a look and rolled her eyes. Helena laughed and pushed her backward so they were both lying on the bed. She gazed down into Myka's clouded face. "It's alright, love. I know what you meant. Yes, we may lie here and talk; all night if you'd like." Her voice was reassuring and Myka's face relaxed.

Hours later they still lay in the bed, with Myka's head on Helena's shoulder and her hand lazily caressing Helena's stomach. They laughed about old times and spoke of vacations they might plan for a future respite from Warehouse work, as well as other romantic notions. Myka no longer felt nervous or anxious. She was as happy as she ever could have imagined. She stopped talking long enough to consider the glorious woman next to her. As uncomfortable as she had been previously, she was just as comfortable now to the point of not being sure what the problem had even been. She watched Helena's animated face as she relayed stories from her days with Warehouse 12.

Myka focused so much on the lines of Helena's face, the contours of her cheekbones, the ever-present knowing smile that she hardly heard a word Helena said. She let her hand finish its current caress then nuzzled her head into Helena's neckline. She felt Helena lean her check against the top of her head and she smiled. Helena continued her story without pause, but came to an abrupt halt mid-sentence when Myka's hand slid under her shirt and began stroking her breast. The surprised gasp she emitted brought a smile to Myka's face. Her skin was intoxicatingly soft and felt so silken she could hardly stand it. Helena's breasts felt so different from her own, she finally understood why lovers always seemed so fascinated with them. She cupped Helena's breast with her right hand and gently ran her thumb over the protruding nipple. Helena shuddered in response. In unison their breathing became heavier as Myka propped herself up and leaned in for a kiss

Helena's moans became guttural as Myka's hands continued to knead her breast. Shivers radiated outward through her body and she felt her hips begin to move. She wrapped her arms around Myka's neck and slid her tongue along Myka's lower lip before taking it between her own lips with a gentle sucking gesture. She drew her left hand up and once again reached beneath Myka's shirt, but this time it was to caress her sides and unhook her bra strap. As it came unclasped she placed the flat of her palm against the newly exposed skin and slid her hand down Myka's back.

Myka's breathing was rapid and ragged as she felt Helena's hands move against her skin. Helena's tongue carefully sought hers out and sent Myka's head swimming. Her lips were lusciously soft, thought Myka. Her touch so gentle it raised goosebumps on her skin. Something so deeply sensual existed in this connection, though whether it was because it was a first experience or because of her own feelings she could not say. All she knew was she did not want it to stop. She brought her hand away from Helena's breast, ignoring the objecting sounds her lover emitted so she could unbutton Helena's blouse. She lifted herself up to remove the article of clothing and stared down at Helena's bare torso. She was perfect. Her skin was smooth and creamy in texture and revealed occasional freckle-type areas. Myka drank in her image and burned it into her memory.

Helena removed Myka's shirt and pulled Myka downward to kiss her neck again. Myka moaned and turned her face toward Helena to kiss her deeply. She felt Helena's hands move to her breasts and immediately pulled away to gasp for air. Helena's hand gingerly flitted across her nipples making Myka's body shudder with pleasure. Her body felt like an inferno was building within her, and her blood seemed ready to boil when she felt Helena's hips moving beneath her own. She slid her thigh between Helena's legs and pressed into Helena's rocking hips. Helena moaned her pleasure and they both began unbuttoning the other's jeans.

Myka's brain was ready to explode. Her desire filled her body with so much wanting she actually felt it in the pit of her stomach. She loved this goddess of a woman, and she was finally going to be able to express it in the one way she never hoped to dream. She frantically pulled at Helena's clothing, and when they were finally able to free themselves they clung, nude, to one another and let the sensation of skin against skin envelope them. It was pure heaven, she thought. Myka slowly took Helena's wrists and pinned them above the pillow as she kissed her way from Helena's mouth to the cleft just below her neck. Her skin tasted sweet, and smelled inviting. She ran her hands down Helena's sides and back up, letting her fingers gently trail the inside of her thighs. Helena's body reacted with slowly rocking hips again, and Myka lowered herself to kiss Helena's breast.

As she did so, Helena sucked in a breath the same moment Myka took her nipple in her mouth. She felt Myka's tongue slide over her and let out a loud moan. For someone with no experience with a woman, Myka did not seem to be inhibited. She reveled in what Myka was doing and reached beneath her to knead the flesh of Myka's breast while Myka suckled at her own. When she felt Myka's hand slip downward her body rose in expectation. Yes, she thought, she wanted to feel Myka's hand against her and she was rewarded a moment later when she felt Myka's fingers find their mark.

Myka began a slow and gentle motion with the palm of her hand against Helena's mound. "What can I do for you, Helena?" She asked the question while continuing her motion. Helena's eyes flitted open and she spoke with a slight hoarseness to her voice.

"Whatever you want to do," she gasped, "I'm enjoying everything you're doing so far."

Myka considered her words before responding. "I think what I want to do… what I really want to do, is be inside of you."

When Helena bit her lower lip at the sound of her words, Myka smiled. She let her fingers slip lower through the soft tufts of hair until she reached the folds of Helena's engorged labia where she sought out the source of the slick wetness that greeted her. When she reached the area she wanted she traced small circles against the outline of the opening before dipping two fingers inside. Helena convulsed so hard Myka had to hold her down in order to keep herself inside. She used long even strokes and very slowly twisted her hand from side to side exploring the warm enclosure as much as she could. This was what it was like to be inside a woman, she thought. She quickly found Helena responded most to one particular spot, so she focused her efforts there.

With her right hand she pressed her fingers upwards to the small area behind her pubic bone. The flesh there was softer and had a different texture than the surrounding walls. She pressed hard against it and bounced her fingers up and down until she found the right pressure and rhythm per Helena's vocalizations. Helena's moans drove Myka crazy. Never before had her touch elicited so much in another person, and the realization that she knew every single physical sensation Helena was experiencing gave her a sense of physical connection she never knew existed. She felt nearly drunk with the knowledge, and was determined to please her lover as much as possible. So far, she mimicked with Helena all the things she herself liked, and it appeared they shared even that in common.

"God, yes," moaned Helena. She rotated her hips in a circular motion in rhythm to Myka's hand. Myka was enraptured. She watched Helena's every move. "Harder," said Helena who moaned loudly when Myka complied. Helena's breathing was ragged now, and every exhalation came with a new vocalization. She pulled on Myka's shoulders to feel her closer to her body. Myka moved to lay her body on top of Helena's but the position was too awkward to continue what she was doing so she hesitated. Helena responded by moving Myka's hand – pulling her fingers out of her and sliding them to her swollen clitoris. Myka pressed her body against Helena and began moving her fingers in first a slow then rapid circular rhythm. She adjusted the speed and pressure in accordance with Helena's responses and lifted her head to watch her face as the orgasm hit.

Helena's mouth fell silently open and her body tensed. She gasped for air and then suddenly her entire body heaved itself against Myka. She dug her fingers into Myka's back and lifted herself up, burying her face in Myka's neck. As wave after wave hit her, the pleasure radiated outward to every area of her body and rolled like thunder until she finally collapsed back to the sheets completely breathless. Myka softened her touch but did not stop her motion until Helena reached down and pulled her hand away at the same time she nestled her head into Myka's shoulder. "Dear God," she said into Myka's shoulder, and she pulled away. She ran her hand through her hair and looked up into Myka's eyes. They stared at one another until Helena pulled Myka down and kissed her.

Myka kissed her hard and rolled to her back pulling Helena with her. She was positively dying for Helena's touch. Her need carried them through the evening as they continued to make love and revel in each other's bodies, sharing their thoughts and their love in every moment. Sometime in the early morning hours they finally slept, completely spent, and obliviously happy in one another's arms. Her dreams were fitful and she rested comfortably for the first time in months, nestled safely in the arms of her friend and lover.

When the Farnsworth blared into Myka's slumber she reached for it and shoved it under her pillow without opening her eyes. Not yet, she thought. She just wanted a little more time to snuggle with Helena before they had to confront the day. She reached over with her left hand to touch her, but found only emptiness in the bed. She turned and opened her eyes. She sat up and took in the space next to her. Empty. She looked around the room and took in the lack of clothing she expected to see strewn across the floor. She shifted her gaze to the desk. There she saw the open-faced locket. Her face fell as realization dawned. Helena had never been there. Myka dreamt the entire thing. She closed her eyes and put her hands over her face. It seemed so real, she thought. Then the familiar pain of Helena's loss hit her. She was really gone, and her dream was just a manifestation of all the feelings she never expressed when she had the chance.

Myka sighed and threw back the covers. She stood and walked to her bureau to grab her clothes for the day before hitting the shower and making her way to the temporary operations tent near where the Warehouse had stood. She thought of Helena and a tear fell from her eye despite the small smile she managed. Some day she hoped they would find a way to bring her back. She knew what she would do if that day ever came.

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